


Cat'astrophe

by Lalalli



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy Era, Brotp, Drunk!Jemma, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, Gropey!Jemma, Humor, Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 18:43:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5795683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalalli/pseuds/Lalalli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A disappointing grade causes Jemma to have an identity crisis.  It’s Fitz’s turn to take care of drunk!Jemma.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cat'astrophe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lilsciencequeen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilsciencequeen/gifts).



> For AgentsofSuperwholocked, who requested a companion fic to Whiskey Business in which slightly drunk Fitz takes care of super drunk Jemma.

Fitz silently cursed Dr. Hall’s efficiency. He and Jemma had been having such a nice evening, hanging out in their flat, eating takeout, watching terrible shark movies and drinking beers to celebrate the end of the term. But no, Dr. Hall had to go and send out that mass e-mail alerting the class that he had posted their final exam scores online. And of course, Jemma had to go and pause Sharkadillo Versus Rhinoshark to check their grades.

It really was quite remarkable, how little time it took for Cuddly-Drunk Jemma to turn into Weepy-Drunk Jemma. Though Fitz hadn’t drunk quite enough to turn into Utterly-Useless-Drunk Fitz, he still felt ill-equipped to deal with Jemma’s emotional crisis.

“An A minus, Fitz!” Jemma sobbed, hugging her folded legs to her chest and pressing her face into her knees.

Fitz frowned and patted her back awkwardly. “I’m pretty sure that a 96 is a regular A,” he reminded her.

“Please,” Jemma scoffed. “Everyone knows that anything below a 97 is an A minus.”

“I’m sure your final grade will still be an A,” Fitz assured her.

“I might as well just drop out,” Jemma sniffled. “Just drop out and become a cat.”

Oh no. Not the stupid cat again.

Jemma looked at him and pouted. “Meow!” she wailed plaintively.

“Jemma,” Fitz groaned.

Jemma rubbed the side of her face against Fitz’s shoulder. “Meow?”

Fitz sighed. He knew what she wanted. He stroked her hair, petting her like a cat. “Good kitty,” he praised her.

Jemma tried to purr, but ended up sounding like she was hacking up phlegm. She clambered into Fitz’s lap, attempting to curl up into a ball and elbowing Fitz’s face in the process.

Fitz leaned back to avoid her flailing limbs, but still ended up getting kneed in the stomach. “Oof!” he grunted. “Okay, that’s enough, Jemma!” he scolded. “You need to be a person again.”

“Meow!”

“Okay,” Fitz huffed. “We definitely need to get you to bed.”

Jemma sat up, practically straddling him. “Stop being such a boob punch.” She held up a fist threateningly.

Fitz instantly crossed an arm over his chest protectively. “Jemmaaaa,” he warned. “You promised you wouldn’t do that anymore!”

Jemma rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to actually punch your boobs.”

Fitz squinted at her suspiciously. “You promise?”

Jemma placed both hands primly in her lap. “Promise.”

“Okay.” Fitz moved both hands to her hips in an attempt to move her off his lap.

“Purple Nurples!”

“ _Goddamnit Simmons!_ ”

\---------------------------------

All things considered, Fitz was pretty proud of himself. He had managed to get Jemma off the couch, across the living room, and into her bedroom, all with minimal groping from Jemma.

So of course, the moment that thought crossed Fitz’s mind, Jemma decided to go slack, turning into dead weight in his arms and causing Fitz to drop her to the floor. Fitz exhaled forcefully in frustration, looking down at her, hoping that she was going to want to be a worm and not a pancake.

Jemma stretched out across her DNA helix rug and held out her arms to him. “Squish me,” she demanded.

“Jemmmaaa,” Fitz groaned.

Jemma pouted. “I want to be a pancake. Squish me like a pancake.”

Great. Pancake it was. “I don’t want to.”

Jemma started sniffling. “You’re supposed to be my best friend.”

Fitz sat down next to her, folding his legs. “I _am_ your best friend.”

“Then why won’tyousquishme?” Jemma whined.

“Because it’s weird!” Fitz burst out.

Jemma’s sniffles turned into full out sobbing. “ _You. Don’t. Love. Me!_ ” she hiccuped.

Fitz looked up at the ceiling, cursing the cosmos. “Why me?” he asked to no one in particular. Fitz leaned over and placed both hands on the floor on either side of Jemma’s shoulders and lay down on top of her so that they were face-to-face, letting the full weight of his body rest on hers.

Jemma stopped sobbing immediately and sighed happily. “That’s more like it.” She brought her arms up and wrapped them around Fitz’s waist, squeezing tightly. “My head, too.”

Fitz sighed, exasperated. He placed one palm on either side of her head so that they covered her ears and pressed in firmly.

“The top of my head, too,” Jemma reminded him.

Fitz shifted his position, trying to move his hands to press against the top of her head, inadvertently pressing his pelvis into hers in the process. Jemma’s arms tightened around him. Fitz tensed and quickly rolled off her, hoping and praying that she didn’t notice that his Nagini had started to show interest in her Deathly Hollow.

“Okay. Off to bed with you.”

\--------------------

The first thing Jemma noticed when she woke up the next morning was that her head felt like it was filled with wasps, ricocheting around the confines of her skull, stinging as they went.

The second thing she noticed was that she was really, really hot, clothes clinging to her body and hair sticking to her neck. She moved to wipe away the sweat beaded across her forehead.

Or at least she tried to. Because the third thing she noticed was that she couldn’t move. She was somehow rolled up tightly in her covers, swaddled like a baby. She rocked back and forth, hoping to loosen the blankets enough to move her arms.

“Ow! Watch it!”

Jemma stopped rocking and turned her head to look next to her. Fitz rolled over to look at her as well.  
  
“Fitz?” Jemma asked slowly. “Why can’t I move?”

Fitz yawned. “You wanted to be a burrito. You really, really aggressively wanted to be a burrito. Aggressively.”

Jemma frowned. “Did I really?”

Fitz nodded. “Yeah. Every time I thought you were ready to fall asleep, you demanded to be wrapped in another tortilla.”

“Oh.” Jemma wrinkled her nose. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright.” Fitz’s eyes started to drift closed again.

“Fitz?”

“Yes, Jemma?”

“Do you think I could be a person again?” Jemma requested.

Fitz smiled at her as he reached over to untuck the corner of her blanket from under her back. “Yeah. I’d like that a lot.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and constructive feedback are welcome and appreciated :)


End file.
